THE SPELL
Of our return to Kôr I need say nothing, except that in due course we
reached that interesting ruin. The journey was chiefly remarkable for
one thing, that on this occasion, I imagine for the first and last time
in his life, Umslopogaas consented to be carried in a litter, at least
for part of the way. He was, as I have said, unwounded, for the axe of
his mighty foe had never once so much as touched his skin. What he
suffered from was shock, a kind of collapse, since, although few would
have thought it, this great and utterly fearless warrior was at bottom
a nervous, highly-strung man.
It is only the nervous that climb the highest points of anything, and
this is true of fights as of all others. That fearful fray with Rezu
had been a great strain on the Zulu. As he put it himself, “the wizard
had sucked the strength” out of him, especially when he found that
owing to his armour he could not harm him in front, and owing to his
cunning could not get at him behind. Then it was that he conceived the
desperate expedient of leaping over his head and smiting backwards as
he leapt, a trick, he told me, that he had once played years before
when he was young, in order to break a shield ring and reach one who
stood in its centre.
In this great leap over Rezu’s head Umslopogaas knew that he must
succeed, or be slain, which in turn would mean my death and that of the
others. For this reason he faced the shame of seeming to fly in order
to gain the higher ground, whence alone he could gather the speed
necessary to such a terrific spring.
Well, he made it and thereby conquered, and this was the end, but as he
said, it had left him, “weak as a snake when it crawls out of its hole
into the sun after the long winter sleep.”
Of one thing, Umslopogaas added, he was thankful, namely that Rezu had
never succeeded in getting his arms round him, since he was quite
certain that if he had he would have broken him “as a baboon breaks a
mealie-stalk.” No strength, not even his, could have resisted the iron
might of that huge, gorilla-like man.
I agreed with him who had noted Rezu’s vast chest and swelling muscles,
also the weight of the blows that he struck with the steel-hafted axe
(which, by the way, when I sought for it, was missing, stolen, I
suppose, by one of the Amahagger).
Whence did that strength come, I wondered, in one who from his face
appeared to be old? Was there perchance, after all, some truth in the
legend of Samson and did it dwell in that gigantic beard and those long
locks of his? It was impossible to say and probably the man was but a
Herculean freak, for that he was as strong as Hercules all the stories
that I heard afterwards of his feats, left little room for doubt.
About one thing only was I certain in connection with him, namely, that
the tales of his supernatural abilities were the merest humbug. He was
simply one of the representatives of the family of “strong men,” of
whom examples are still to be seen doing marvellous feats all over the
earth.
For the rest, he was dead and broken up by those Amahagger blood-hounds
before I could examine him, or his body-armour either, and there was an
end of him and his story. But when I looked at the corpse of poor
Robertson, which I did as we buried it where he fell, and saw that
though so large and thick-set, it was cleft almost in two by a single
blow of Rezu’s axe, I came to understand what the might of this savage
must have been.
I say savage, but I am not sure that this is a right description of
Rezu. Evidently he had a religion of a sort, also imagination, as was
shown by the theft of the white woman to be his queen; by his veiling
of her to resemble Ayesha whom he dreaded; by the intended propitiatory
sacrifice; by the guard of women sworn to her service who slew the
priest that tried to kill her, and afterwards committed suicide when
they had failed in their office, and by other things. All this
indicated something more than savagery, perhaps survivals from a
forgotten civilisation, or perhaps native ability on the part of an
individual ruler. I do not know and it matters nothing.
Rezu is dead and the world is well rid of him, and those who want to
learn more of his people can go to study such as remain of them in
their own habitat, which for my part I never wish to visit any more.
During our journey to Kôr poor Inez never stirred. Whenever I went to
look at her in the litter, I found her lying there with her eyes open
and a fixed stare upon her face which frightened me very much, since I
began to fear lest she should die. However I could do nothing to help
her, except urge the bearers to top speed. So swiftly did we travel
down the hill and across the plain that we reached Kôr just as the sun
was setting. As we crossed the moat I perceived old Billali coming to
meet us. This he did with many bows, keeping an anxious eye upon the
litter which he had learned contained Umslopogaas. Indeed his attitude
and that of the Amahagger towards the two of us, and even Hans,
thenceforward became almost abject, since after our victory over Rezu
and his death beneath the axe, they looked upon us as half divine and
treated us accordingly.
“O mighty General,” he said, “She-who-commands bids me conduct the lady
who is sick to the place that has been made ready for her, which is
near your own so that you may watch over her if you will.”
I wondered how Ayesha knew that Inez was sick, but being too tired to
ask questions, merely bade him lead on. This he did, taking us to
another ruined house next to our own quarters which had been swept,
cleaned and furnished after a fashion, and moreover cleverly roofed in
with mats, so that it was really quite comfortable. Here we found two
middle-aged women of a very superior type, who, Billali informed me,
were by trade nurses of the sick. Having seen her laid upon her bed, I
committed Inez to their charge, since the case was not one that I dared
to try to doctor myself, not knowing what drug of the few I possessed
should be administered to her. Moreover Billali comforted me with the
information that soon She-who-commands would visit her and “make her
well again,” as she could do.
I answered that I hoped so and went to our quarters where I found an
excellent meal ready cooked and with it a stone flagon, of the contents
of which Billali said we were all three to drink by the command of
Ayesha, who declared that it would take away our weariness.
I tried the stuff, which was pale yellow in colour like sherry and, for
aught I knew, might be poison, to find it most comforting, though it
did not seem to be very strong to the taste. Certainly, too, its
effects were wonderful, since presently all my great weariness fell
from me like a discarded cloak, and I found myself with a splendid
appetite and feeling better and stronger than I had done for years. In
short that drink was a “cocktail” of the best, one of which I only wish
I possessed the recipe, though Ayesha told me afterwards that it was
distilled from quite harmless herbs and not in any sense a spirit.
Having discovered this, I gave some of it to Hans, also to Umslopogaas,
who was with the wounded Zulus, who, we found, were progressing well
towards complete recovery, and lastly to Goroko who also was worn out.
On all of these the effect of that magical brew proved most
satisfactory.
Then, having washed, I ate a splendid dinner, though in this respect
Hans, who was seated on the ground nearby, far outpassed my finest
efforts.
“Baas,” he said, “things have gone very well with us when they might
have gone very ill. The Baas Red-Beard is dead, which is a good thing,
since a madman would have been difficult to look after, and a brain
full of moonshine is a bad companion for any one. Oh! without doubt he
is better dead, though your reverend father the Predikant will have a
hard job looking after him there in the Place of Fires.”
“Perhaps,” I said with a sigh, “since it is better to be dead than to
live a lunatic. But what I fear is that the lady his daughter will
follow him.”
“Oh, no! Baas,” replied Hans cheerfully, “though I daresay that she
will always be a little mad also, because you see it is in her blood
and doubtless she has looked on dreadful things. But the Great Medicine
will see to it that she does not die after we have taken so much
trouble and gone into such big dangers to save her. That Great Medicine
is very wonderful, Baas. First of all it makes you General over those
Amahagger who without you would never have fought, as the Witch who
ties up her head in a cloth knew well enough. Then it brings us safe
through the battle and gives strength to Umslopogaas to kill the old
man-eating giant.”
“Why did it not give _me_ strength to kill him, Hans? I let him have
two Express bullets on his chest, which hurt him no more than a tap
upon the horns with a dancing stick would hurt a bull-buffalo.”
“Oh! Baas, perhaps you missed him, who because you hit things
sometimes, think that you do so always.”
Having waited to see if I would rise to this piece of insolence, which
of course I did not, he went on by way of letting me down easily, “Or
perhaps he wore very good armour under his beard, for I saw some of
those Amahagger who pulled his hair off and cut him to pieces, go away
with what looked like little bits of brass. Also the Great Medicine
meant that he should be killed by Umslopogaas and not by you, since
otherwise Umslopogaas would have been sad for the rest of his life,
whereas now he will walk about the world as proud as a cock with two
tails and crow all night as well as all day. Then, Baas, when Rezu
broke the square and the Amahagger began to run, without doubt it was
the Great Medicine which changed their hearts and made them brave
again, so that they charged at the right moment when they saw it going
forward on your breast, and instead of being eaten up, ate up the
cannibals.”
“Indeed! I thought that the Lady who dwells yonder had something to do
with that business. Did you see her, Hans?”
“Oh, yes! I saw her, Baas, and I think that without doubt she lifted
the cloth from over her head and when the people of Rezu saw how ugly
was the face beneath, it did frighten them a little. But doubtless the
Great Medicine put that thought into her also, for, Baas, what could a
silly woman do in such a case? Did you ever know of a woman who was of
any use in a battle, or for anything else except to nurse babies, and
this one does not even do that, no doubt because being so hideous under
that sheet, no man can be found to marry her.”
Now I looked up by chance and in the light of the lamps saw Ayesha
standing in the room, which she had entered through the open doorway,
within six feet of Hans’ back indeed.
“Be sure Baas,” he went on, “that this bundle of rags is nothing but a
common old cheat who frightens people by pretending to be a spook, as,
if she dared to say that it was she who made those stinking Amahagger
charge, and not the Great Medicine of the Opener-of-Roads, I would tell
her to her face.”
Now I was too paralysed to speak, and while I was reflecting that it
was fortunate Ayesha did not understand Dutch, she moved a little so
that one of the lamps behind her caused her shadow to fall on to the
back of the squatting Hans and over it on to the floor beyond. He saw
it and stared at the distorted shape of the hooded head, then slowly
screwed his neck round and looked upwards behind him.
For a moment he went on staring as though he were frozen, then uttering
a wild yell, he scrambled to his feet, bolted out of the house and
vanished into the night.
“It seems, Allan,” said Ayesha slowly, “that yonder yellow ape of yours
is very bold at throwing sticks when the leopardess is not beneath the
tree. But when she comes it is otherwise with him. Oh! make no excuse,
for I know well that he was speaking ill things of me, because being
curious, as apes are, he burns to learn what is behind my veil, and
being simple, believes that no woman would hide her face unless its
fashion were not pleasing to the nice taste of men.”
Then, to my relief, she laughed a little, softly, which showed me that
she had a sense of humour, and went on, “Well, let him be, for he is a
good ape and courageous in his fashion, as he showed when he went out
to spy upon the host of Rezu, and stabbed the murderer-priest by the
stone of sacrifice.”
“How can you know the words of Hans, Ayesha,” I asked, “seeing that he
spoke in a tongue which you have never learned?”
“Perchance I read faces, Allan.”
“Or backs,” I suggested, remembering that his was turned to her.
“Or backs, or voices, or hearts. It matters little which, since read I
do. But have done with such childish talk and lead me to this maiden
who has been snatched from the claws of Rezu and a fate that is worse
than death. Do you understand, Allan, that ere the demon Rezu took her
to wife, the plan was to sacrifice her own father to her and then eat
him as the woman with her was eaten, and before her eyes? Now the
father is dead, which is well, as I think the little yellow man said to
you—nay, start not, I read it from his back [Ha!—JB]—since had he lived
whose brain was rotted, he would have raved till his death’s day.
Better, therefore, that he should die like a man fighting against a foe
unconquerable by all save one. But she still lives.”
“Aye, but mindless, Ayesha.”
“Which, in great trouble such as she has passed, is a blessed state, O
Allan. Bethink you, have there not been days, aye and months, in your
own life when you would have rejoiced to sleep in mindlessness? And
should we not, perchance, be happier, all of us, if like the beasts we
could not remember, foreknow and understand? Oh! men talk of Heaven,
but believe me, the real Heaven is one of dreamless sleep, since life
and wakefulness, however high their scale and on whatever star, mean
struggle, which being so oft mistaken, must breed sorrow—or remorse
that spoils all. Come now.”
So I preceded her to the next ruined house where we found Inez lying on
the bed still clothed in her barbaric trappings, although the veil had
been drawn off her face. There she lay, wide-eyed and still, while the
women watched her. Ayesha looked at her a while, then said to me,
“So they tricked her out to be Ayesha’s mock and image, and in time
accepted by those barbarians as my very self, and even set the seals of
royalty on her,” and she pointed to the gold discs stamped with the
likeness of the sun. “Well, she is a fair maiden, white and gently
bred, the first such that I have seen for many an age. Nor did she wish
this trickery. Moreover she has taken no hurt; her soul has sunk deep
into a sea of horror and that is all, whence doubtless it can be drawn
again. Yet I think it best that for a while she should remember naught,
lest her brain break, as did her father’s, and therefore no net of mine
shall drag her back to memory. Let that return gently in future days,
and then of it not too much, for so shall all this terror become to her
a void in which sad shapes move like shadows, and as shadows are soon
forgot and gone, no more to be held than dreams by the awakening sense.
Stand aside, Allan, and you women, leave us for a while.”
I obeyed, and the women bowed and went. Then Ayesha drew up her veil,
and knelt down by the bed of Inez, but in such a fashion that I could
not see her face although I admit that I tried to do so. I could see,
however, that she set her lips against those of Inez and as I gathered
by her motions, seemed to breathe into her lips. Also she lifted her
hands and placing one of them upon the heart of Inez, for a minute or
more swayed the other from side to side above her eyes, pausing at
times to touch her upon the forehead with her finger-tips.
Presently Inez stirred and sat up, whereon Ayesha took a vessel of milk
which stood upon the floor and held it to her lips. Inez drank to the
last drop, then sank on to the bed again. For a while longer Ayesha
continued the motions of her hands, then let fall her veil and rose.
“Look, I have laid a spell upon her,” she said, beckoning to me to draw
near.
I did so and perceived that now the eyes of Inez were shut and that she
seemed to be plunged in a deep and natural sleep.
“So she will remain for this night and that day which follows,” said
Ayesha, “and when she wakes it will be, I think, to believe herself
once more a happy child. Not until she sees her home again will she
find her womanhood, and then all this story will be forgotten by her.
Of her father you must tell her that he died when you went out to hunt
the river-beasts together, and if she seeks for certain others, that
they have gone away. But I think that she will ask little more when she
learns that he is dead, since I have laid that command upon her soul.”
“Hypnotic suggestion,” thought I to myself, “and I only hope to heaven
that it will work.”
Ayesha seemed to guess what was passing through my mind, for she nodded
and said,
“Have no fear, Allan, for I am what the black axe-bearer and the little
yellow man called a ‘witch’ which means, as you who are instructed
know, one who has knowledge of medicine and other things and who holds
a key to some of the mysteries that lie hid in Nature.”
“For instance,” I suggested, “of how to transport yourself into a
battle at the right moment, and out of it again—also at the right
moment.”
“Yes, Allan, since watching from afar, I saw that those Amahagger curs
were about to flee and that I was needed there to hearten them and to
put fear into the army of Rezu. So I came.”
“But how did you come, Ayesha?”
She laughed as she answered,
“Perhaps I did not come at all. Perhaps you only thought I came; since
I seemed to be there the rest matters nothing.”
As I still looked unconvinced she went on,
“Oh! foolish man, seek not to learn of that which is too high for you.
Yet listen. You in your ignorance suppose that the soul dwells within
the body, do you not?”
I answered that I had always been under this impression.
“Yet, Allan, it is otherwise, for the body dwells within the soul.”
“Like the pearl in an oyster,” I suggested.
“Aye, in a sense, since the pearl which to you is beautiful, is to the
oyster a sickness and a poison, and so is the body to the soul whose
temple it troubles and defiles. Yet round it is the white and holy soul
that ever seeks to bring the vile body to its own purity and colour,
yet oft-times fails. Learn, Allan, that flesh and spirit are the
deadliest foes joined together by a high decree that they may forget
their hate and perfect each other, or failing, be separate to all
eternity, the spirit going to its own place and the flesh to its
corruption.”
“A strange theory,” I said.
“Aye, Allan, and one which is so new to you that never will you
understand it. Yet it is true and I set it out for this reason. The
soul of man, being at liberty and not cooped within his narrow breast,
is in touch with that soul of the Universe, which men know as God Whom
they call by many names. Therefore it has all knowledge and perhaps all
power, and at times the body within it, if it be a wise body, can draw
from this well of knowledge and abounding power. So at least can I. And
now you will understand why I am so good a doctoress and how I came to
appear in the battle, as you said, at the right time, and to leave it
when my work was done.”
“Oh! yes,” I answered, “I quite understand. I thank you much for
putting it so plainly.”
She laughed a little, appreciating my jest, looked at the sleeping
Inez, and said,
“The fair body of this lady dwells in a large soul, I think, though one
of a somewhat sombre hue, for souls have their colours, Allan, and
stain that which is within them. She will never be a happy woman.”
“The black people named her Sad-Eyes,” I said.
“Is it so? Well, I name her Sad-Heart, though for such often there is
joy at last. Meanwhile she will forget; yes, she will forget the worst
and how narrow was the edge between her and the arms of Rezu.”
“Just the width of the blade of the axe, _Inkosikaas_,” I answered.
“But tell me, Ayesha, why could not that axe cut and why did my bullets
flatten or turn aside when these smote the breast of Rezu?”
“Because his front-armour was good, Allan, I suppose,” she replied
indifferently, “and on his back he wore none.”
“Then why did you fill my ears with such a different tale about that
horrible giant having drunk of a Cup of Life, and all the rest?” I
asked with irritation.
“I have forgotten, Allan. Perhaps because the curious, such as you are,
like to hear tales even stranger than their own, which in the days to
be may become their own. Therefore you will be wise to believe only
what I do, and of what I tell you, nothing.”
“I don’t,” I exclaimed exasperated.
She laughed again and replied,
“What need to say to me that which I know already? Yet perhaps in the
future it may be different, since often by the alchemy of the mind the
fables of our youth are changed into the facts of our age, and we come
to believe in anything, as your little yellow man believes in some
savage named Zikali, and those Amahagger believe in the talisman round
your neck, and I who am the maddest of you all, believe in Love and
Wisdom, and the black warrior, Umslopogaas, believes in the virtue of
that great axe of his, rather than in those of his own courage and of
the strength that wields it. Fools, every one of us, though perchance I
am the greatest fool among them. Now take me to the warrior,
Umslopogaas, whom I would thank, as I thank you, Allan, and the little
yellow man, although he jeers at me with his sharp tongue, not knowing
that if I were angered, with a breath I could cause him to cease to
be.”
“Then why did you not choose Rezu to cease to be, and his army also,
Ayesha?”
“It seems that I have done these things through the axe of Umslopogaas
and by the help of your generalship, Allan. Why then, waste my own
strength when yours lay to my hand?”
“Because you had no power over Rezu, Ayesha, or so you told me.”
“Have I not said that my words are snowflakes, meant to melt and leave
no trace, hiding my thoughts as this veil hides my beauty? Yet as the
beauty is beneath the veil, perchance there is truth beneath the words,
though not that truth you think. So you are well answered, and for the
rest, I wonder whether Rezu thought I had no power over him when yonder
on the mountain spur he saw me float down upon his companies like a
spirit of the night. Well, perchance some day I shall learn this and
many other things.”
I made no answer, since what was the use of arguing with a woman who
told me frankly that all she said was false. So, although I longed to
ask her why these Amahagger had such reverence for the talisman that
Hans called the Great Medicine, since now I guessed that her first
explanations concerning it were quite untrue, I held my tongue.
Yet as we went out of the house, by some coincidence she alluded to
this very matter.
“I wish to tell you, Allan,” she said, “why it was those Amahagger
would not accept you as a General till their eyes had seen that which
you wear upon your breast. Their tale of a legend of this very thing
seemed that of savages or of their cunning priests, not to be believed
by a wise man such as you are, like some others that you have heard in
Kôr. Yet it has in it a grain of truth, for as it chanced a little
while ago, about a hundred years ago, I think, the old wizard whose
picture is cut upon the wood, came to visit her who held my place
before me as ruler of this tribe—she was very like me and as I believe,
my mother, Allan—because of her repute for wisdom.
“At that time I have heard there was a question of war between the
worshippers of Lulala and the grandfather of Rezu. But this Zikali told
the People of Lulala that they must not fight the People of Rezu until
in a day to come a white man should visit Kôr and bring with him a
piece of wood on which was cut the image of a dwarf like to that of
Zikali himself. Then and not before they must fight and conquer the
People of Rezu. Now this story came down among them and you who may
have thought the first tale magical, will understand it in its
simplicity: is it not so, you wise Allan?”
“Oh! yes,” I answered, “except that I do not see how Zikali can have
come here a hundred years ago, since men do not live as long, although
he pretends to have done so.”
“No, Allan, nor do I, but perhaps it was his father, or his grandfather
who came, since being observant, you will have noted that if the parent
is mis-formed, so often are the descendants; also that the pretence of
wizardry at times comes down with the blood.”
Again I made no answer for I saw that Ayesha was fooling me, and before
she could exhaust that amusement we reached the place where Umslopogaas
and his men were gathered round a camp fire. He sat silent, but Goroko
with much animation was telling the story of the fight in picturesque
and colourful language, or that part of it which he had seen, for the
benefit of the two wounded men who took no share in it and who, lying
on their blankets with heads thrust forward, were listening with
eagerness to the entrancing tale. Suddenly they caught sight of Ayesha,
and those of the party who could stand sprang to their feet, while one
and all they gave her the royal salute of _Bayéte_.
She waited till the sound had died away. Then she said,
“I come to thank you and your men, O Wielder of the Axe, who have shown
yourself very great in battle, and to say to you that my Spirit tells
me that every one of you, yes, even those who are still sick, will come
safe to your own land again and live out your years with honour.”
Again they saluted at this pleasing intelligence, when I had translated
it to them, for of course they knew no Arabic. Then she went on,
“I am told, Umslopogaas, Son of the Lion, as a certain king was named
in your land, that the fight you made against Rezu was a very great
fight, and that such a leap as yours above his head when you smote him
with the axe on the hinder parts where he wore no armour, and brought
him to his death, has not been seen before, nor will be again.”
I rendered the words, and Umslopogaas, preferring truth to modesty,
replied emphatically that this was the case.
“Because of that fight and that leap,” Ayesha went on, “as for other
deeds that you have done and will do, my Spirit tells me that your name
will live in story for many generations. Yet of what use is fame to the
dead? Therefore I make you an offer. Bide here with me and you shall
rule these Amahagger, and with them the remnant of the People of Rezu.
Your cattle shall be countless and your wives the fairest in the land,
and your children many, for I will lift a certain curse from off you so
that no more shall you be childless. Do you accept, O Holder of the
Axe?”
When he understood, Umslopogaas, after pondering a moment, asked if I
meant to stay in this land and marry the white chieftainess who spoke
such wise words and could appear and disappear in the battle at her
will, and like a mountain-top hid her head in a cloud, which was his
way of alluding to her veil.
I answered at once and with decision that I intended to do nothing of
the sort and immediately regretted my words, since, although I spoke in
Zulu, I suppose she read their meaning from my face. At any rate she
understood the drift of them.
“Tell him, Allan,” she said with a kind of icy politeness, “that you
will not stop here and marry me, because if ever I chose a husband he
would not be a little man at the doors of whose heart so many women’s
hands have knocked—yes, even those that are black—and not, I think, in
vain. One, moreover, who holds himself so clever that he believes he
has nothing left to learn, and in every flower of truth that is shown
to him, however fair, smells only poison, and beneath, nurturing it,
sees only the gross root of falsehood planted in corruption. Tell him
these things, Allan, if it pleases you.”
“It does not please me,” I answered in a rage at her insults.
“Nor is it needful, Allan, since if I caught the meaning of that
barbarous tongue you use aright, you have told him already. Well, let
the jest pass, O man who least of all things desires to be Ayesha’s
husband, and whom Ayesha least of all things desires as her spouse, and
ask the Axe-bearer nothing since I perceive that without you he will
not stay at Kôr. Nor indeed is it fated that he should do so, for now
my Spirit tells me what it hid from me when I spoke a moment gone, that
this warrior shall die in a great fight far away and that between then
and now much sorrow waits him who save that of one, knows not how to
win the love of women. Let him say moreover what reward he desires
since if I can give it to him, it shall be his.”
Again I translated. Umslopogaas received her prophecies in stoical
silence, and as I thought with indifference, and only said in reply,
“The glory that I have won is my reward and the only boon I seek at
this queen’s hands is that if she can she should give me sight of a
woman for whom my heart is hungry, and with it knowledge that this
woman lives in that land whither I travel like all men.”
When she heard these words Ayesha said,
“True, I had forgotten. Your heart also is hungry, I think, Allan, for
the vision of sundry faces that you see no more. Well, I will do my
best, but since only faith fulfils itself, how can I who must strive to
pierce the gates of darkness for one so unbelieving, know that they
will open at my word? Come to me, both of you, at the sunset
to-morrow.”
Then as though to change the subject, she talked to me for a long while
about Kôr, of which she told me a most interesting history, true or
false, that I omit here.
At length, as though suddenly she had grown tired, waving her hand to
show that the conversation was ended, Ayesha went to the wounded men
and touched them each in turn.
“Now they will recover swiftly,” she said, and leaving the place was
gone into the darkness.